Chapter 15 Chapter 15 The Red House

"Wonderful," said Tommy, looking out of the window of the Corolla and Anchor Inn, "that we've come to this damn toad-hole--whatever it's called, anyway. Small towns are annoying." "Let us study the case first," said Tuppence. "Of course you can," said Tommy. "First of all, I'm going to say what I think the sick mother is most likely to suspect." "What's the reason?" "My dear Tuppence, it is assumed that this haunting incident was premeditated, with the object of prompting the girl to sell the house quickly. There must therefore have been some throwing of the house's contents. The girl had said that all Everyone is eating--but one should be. If the mother is particularly ill, she must be in her room above."

"If she was really seriously ill, she wouldn't be able to break the furniture." "Hmph! But what if she's not really sick, but pretending to be sick?" "Then why?" "That's what I can't find the answer to," her husband freely admitted. "I've been scrupulously following the well-known principle of detection—that is, to focus on suspecting the least likely perpetrators." "You're always kidding about everything," said Tuppence gravely. "Of course there must be some reason why those people were so eager to get that house. If you really don't want to find out what happened If you don't, then I'll do it. I like that girl, she's so cute."

Tommy nodded solemnly. "I have nothing to say. Tuppence, I just can't help joking with you sometimes. Of course, what's going on in this house is very strange. However, no matter what kind of secret it is, it is very difficult to find out.Otherwise, wouldn't the problem be solved with a simple burglary?Why bother to play such a trick.The rush to buy the house meant prying open floors, knocking down walls, and even digging the ground to get there.Or there is a coal mine under the ground in the back garden. " "I don't think it's a coal mine. Wouldn't it be more romantic to have buried treasure?"

"Well!" said Tommy, "if that's the case, then I'll have to call on the manager of the local bank. I'll tell him I'm staying over Christmas and probably going to buy Down to the Red Room. Then talk to him about opening a bank account." "but why--?" "Just wait and see!" Half an hour later, Tommy came back.His eyes twinkled with joy. "Tuppence, things have come a long way. My meeting with the manager went exactly as I wished. In the course of our conversation I asked him, quite casually, if anyone had deposited gold in their bank, This sort of thing happens now and then in small town banks like these. You know, there were quite a few small farmers who buried their gold in the ground during the war. We naturally talked about some old lady's oddities around the subject. Curious behavior. I improvised that I had an aunt who had driven a wagon to the Navy depot when the war broke out, and came back with sixteen hams in it. He immediately went on to say that he A customer of her own once insisted on taking all her deposits, not a single penny. She demanded that she pay in gold as much as possible. Nay, she insisted on taking all securities, bearer deposits, and Bonds and things like that are all in her own custody. I remarked on the sheer stupidity of it, and then he said that the old lady was the original owner of the red house. Do you understand, Tuppence?

She took all the money out of the bank and hid it somewhere. Remember when Monica Dean mentioned that they were amazed at how little she left behind?Apparently, she hid the money in the red room, and someone knew about it.I could also guess exactly who that person was. " "Who is it?" "What do you think of that faithful Crockett? I suppose she must have known her mistress' eccentricities well." "And what do you think of Dr. O'Neill with the gold teeth?" "That gentlemanly nephew, of course, and it was he I suspected. But where did she hide the money? You must know old ladies better than I do, Tuppence. Where do they go?" Hide something?"

"Wrapped in a stocking, or wrapped in a petticoat, or tucked under a mattress." Tommy nodded. "I really hope you're right. But, she won't do that, because once her things are rummaged, the money will surely be found. I've been thinking about— There was no way an old lady like her could have pried open the floorboards, or dug holes in the garden.But one thing cannot be denied, that is, the money must be hidden somewhere in the red house.Crockett hadn't found where the money was hidden either, but she knew it was there.Once the house belonged to her and her precious nephew, they had no qualms about digging around until they found what they wanted.Therefore, we must get ahead of them.Tuppence, make haste!We're off to the Red House at once! "

Miss Monica Dean received them both warmly.She introduced her mother and Crockett as possible buyers for the red house.In this way, they were free to observe the whole house inside and out.Tommy didn't tell Monica what he had come to, he just asked her some detailed questions.Some of the deceased grand dame's clothing and personal effects had been given to Crockett, while others had been given to several impoverished families.Every little thing turned over and all carefully checked. "Did your aunt ever leave papers or anything like that?" "Yes, the desk is full, and some are in her bedroom drawers. But none of them are important."

"They weren't thrown away, were they?" "No, my mother has never been very fond of throwing away old paper. There are some very old prescriptions in these papers, and she intends to take a good look at them some day." "Very good!" Tommy approved, and then pointed to the old man who was busy in a flowerbed in the garden.He asked, "Did that old gardener work here when your aunt was alive?" "Yes, he used to work three days a week. He lives in this small town. Ah, what a good old man, who has helped us a lot besides talking in the garden.We now only have him in once a week to tidy up the garden.

Because we can't pay more wages. " Tommy winked at Tuppence and signaled her to deal with Monica.He himself walked towards the place where the old gardener was working.He had a pleasant conversation with the old man, and then asked him if he had worked here when the old lady was alive.Finally, he casually said: "You buried some boxes for her, didn't you?" "No, sir, I never buried anything for her. Why should she bury boxes?" Tommy shook his head and went back into the house with a sad face.It seems that the only hope is to carefully study the documents left by the old lady, and perhaps find some clues from them.Otherwise, the problem is too difficult to solve.Although the house itself is an old-style structure, it may look like a particularly old building with some kind of dark room or dark passage inside.

Just when they were about to leave, Monica brought a cardboard box tightly tied with a rope. "I've collected all my papers," she whispered, "and put them all in here. I think you can take them with you. That way, you'll have plenty of time to go over them—but, I'm sure, you Impossible to find anything that would lead to the mystery of the house—" Suddenly, a terrible loud noise from upstairs interrupted her.Tommy ran up the stairs in a few quick steps, and there was a pot and a basin lying on the floor in a front room that had been broken into pieces, and there was no one in the room.

"The ghost is playing tricks again," he said through gritted teeth. He walked slowly down the stairs in thought. "Miss Dean, I wondered if I could speak to the servant—that is, Crockett, just for a moment." "Of course that's all right. I'll get her to see you right away." Monica walked to the kitchen.After a while, she came over with an elderly maid.The maid had opened the door for them both. "We're going to buy the house," said Tommy lightheartedly. "If we do, I'd love to know if you'd like to stay with us?" There was no expression on Crockett's haughty face. "Thank you very much, sir," she said, "and I will think it over if I wish." Tommy turned to look at Monica. "Miss Dean, I am very pleased with the house. I know there is another buyer in the market and I know what he is asking for. However, I am willing to pay an extra hundred pounds. Sorry, this is what I can offer Highest price." Monica muttered something unclear, and the Beresfords left. "My guess is exactly right," said Tommy, as they walked out into the driveway. "Crockett must have been involved. Did you notice that she was short of breath just now? That's Because after she threw the pot and basin on the floor, she ran down the back stairs in a hurry. Of course, she may secretly hide her nephew in the house sometimes, and let him do this to you Call it a ghostly business. In the meantime, she'll be safe with the family and appear to have nothing to do with it. I'm sure Dr. O'Neill will be raising the buyout again before tomorrow. the price of the house." As expected, after dinner, they received a note.It was sent by Monica. "I just got news that O'Neill raised his original purchase price by £150." "That nephew must be a scheming man," mused Tommy. "I tell you, Tuppence, he's clearly looking for a very good return." "Ah! Yes! How wonderful it would be if we could find that fortune!" "Okay, then, let's get down to the hard and meticulous work!" Then they began to scrutinize the large box of papers, which was a laborious task.They searched aimlessly through the jumbled pile of papers, exchanging information every few minutes. "Tuppence, what is your latest discovery?" "Two paid bills, three worthless letters, a piece of paper with tips on how to preserve fresh potatoes, and another with instructions on how to make lemon cheese pie. So what did you find? " "A bill, a poem about spring, two articles clipped from newspapers: one on 'Why Women Buy Jewelry—A Smart Investment'; Extraordinary story'; and a page on the recipe for hare stew." "It's such a disappointment," said Tuppence despondently.Then they went back to their annoying work again.Finally, the box was turned upside down, and they looked at each other. "I put this aside just now," said Tommy, picking up half the page. "Because it piqued my curiosity. But I didn't think it would have anything to do with the clues we were looking for." "Let me see. Ah! It's the funny stuff. What do people call them? Yes, anagrams, or word games with verses and pictures." She read aloud: "The first part of me can be set on fire, My whole fits into my first part; My second part is always number one; The third part of me hates the winter wind. " "Hmph!" said Tommy sharply, "I don't see what's so brilliant about the poet's rhyme." "I don't see what you find so curious," retorted Tuppence. "About fifty years ago, everybody used to collect things like this and keep them. In the winter It's the kind of game to pass the time in the evenings when everyone is sitting around the fire." "I wasn't referring to the verse. It's the words written under it that intrigue me." "St. Luke, Chapter Eleven, Psalm Nine," she said when she had finished. "That's the title of the Bible passage." "Yes. Doesn't it surprise you, too? How could a religious old lady write something like that under a charade?" "It's a strange thing indeed," agreed Tuppence after a moment's thought. "Since you're the priest's daughter, I thought you'd have a Bible with you, don't you?" "Of course I do. I do. Ah! You don't think that. Wait a minute." Tuppence ran to her suitcase, drew a small red book from it, and came over to put it on the table.She turned the pages quickly. "Ah, I found it. St. Luke, Chapter Eleven, Psalm Nine. Cough! Come and see, Tommy." Tommy bent over the line of the poem which Tuppence was pointing to with her little finger. "As long as you pursue you, you will gain." "That's right," exclaimed Tuppence, "we have a solution: as long as the code is broken, the fortune will be ours—or more precisely Monica's." "Okay, let's break this code together you said. 'You can set my first part on fire.' What does that mean? Next— 'Your whole can be put in my first part. 'This is pure nonsense. " "It's too simple, really," said Tuppence kindly. "It's just a little wordplay. Let me get it out of the way." Tommy was eager to let Yin go.Leaning back in her arm-chair, Tuppence began to frown and mutter to herself. "Hmph! It's so easy, really," said Tommy sarcastically, half an hour later. "Don't gloat, please! My generation doesn't know much about it. I have a good idea, go back to London tomorrow and ask some old lady, she will probably figure out what it is as easily as a blink of an eye." Meaning. It’s a little wordplay anyway, that’s all.” "The way I see it, we'd better try again." "There aren't that many things you can put on a fire," mused Tuppence. "Water and the fire will be put out, or wood, or a kettle." "But I think it must be a monosyllabic word. Could it be wood?" "But you can't put anything in wood." "As far as this strange poem is concerned, there are few proper monosyllabic words other than water. But there must be something in a vessel like a kettle that can be put on fire, and its name is monosyllabic .” "Pan," joked Tuppence. "Frying pan. Or is it a pot? Or a pot? Say, what are some of the utensils marked with the word pot or pot that can be used for cooking?" "Claypot," suggested Tommy, "it can be baked on the fire. Isn't that close enough?" "But the syllables are still wrong. Pancake pans? Oh, more wrong! What a nuisance." They were then interrupted by a little maid who came to inform them that supper would be ready in a few minutes. "Mrs. Lumley just wanted to know if you like your potatoes fried or boiled? She has some of each." "Potatoes with the skin on," replied Tuppence immediately, "I love potatoes best—" She broke off abruptly, staring open-mouthed ahead. "Tuppence, what's the matter with you? Have you seen a ghost?" "Tommy," cried Tuppence, recovering, "don't you understand? That's the word: I mean--Potatoes 'My first part can be put on the fire'  … "That's a can. 'My whole fits in my first part' - Boiled potatoes are boiled whole. 'My second part always comes first' - that's A, the first letter of the alphabet. 'Part 3 of my loathing of winter winds' - toes of course! " ①Potatoes is Potatoes in English.The first three letters are - the word pot, which means "pot"; the middle is the first letter a in English; the last four letters are another word toes, which means toes. ——Annotation. "Exactly, Tuppence. You're too clever. But I'm afraid we've wasted a lot of time and found nothing. There's absolutely no connection between the potatoes and the lost treasure. Well, wait a minute. We were rummaging through that box just now. , What did you say you saw? It seems to be the secret to preserving fresh potatoes. I wonder if there is any secret in it." He quickly flipped through the pile of papers with secret recipes and so on. "Ah, I found it. 'The method of preserving potatoes. Putting fresh potatoes in tin cans and burying them in the garden. Even in the depths of winter, they still taste as good as ever.'" "At last we figured it out," said Tuppence Overjoyed, "Exactly. The wealth is in the garden, buried in tin cans." "But I asked the gardener, and he said he never buried anything." "Yes, he's absolutely right. That's because people don't really answer what you want to know, but what they understand. All he knows is that he never buried anything unusual. We'll Go to him and just ask him straight up where he buried his potatoes." The next day was Christmas Eve.They inquired and found the old gardener's hut early in the morning.After chatting with the old man for a few minutes, Tuppence went straight to the point. "I wish everyone had fresh potatoes at Christmas time," she said. "Turkey is the best thing ever! Do you know anyone around here who puts potatoes in tin cans and buries them in the ground? I I heard that this method can keep potatoes fresh." "Yes, we have people who do it here," said the old man. "Old Miss Dean, the original owner of the Red House, buried three tin cans of potatoes every summer. But she often forgot Then dig them out." "Generally, tin cans are buried next to the foundation of the house, does she do the same?" "No, she buried them under the wall against that pine tree." Now that they had obtained the information they wanted to know, they both took leave of the old man at once, and gave him five shillings as a Christmas present. "Okay, now it's time to find Monica," Tommy said. "Tommy! You're so unromantic. Leave it to me. I've got a wonderful plan. Do you think you can manage to beg, borrow, or even steal a shovel?" Anyway, they managed to find a shovel just in time.That night, two looming figures slipped into the garden of the red house quietly.The place pointed out by the gardener was found with great ease.Tommy sprang into action immediately.After a while, the shovel in his hand bumped against a metal object.A few seconds later, he dug out a large tin tin box containing biscuits.The sides of the jar were tightly sealed with adhesive plaster.Quickly Tuppence pried the jar open with Tommy's knife. She cried out in a low voice, and the jar was full of potatoes.She dumped the potatoes out, and the jar was bottomed out, but nothing else was found. "Dig again, Tommy." Before long, their labor was not in vain, and a second jar was dug up.Tuppence opened it in the same way. "How is it?" Tommy asked anxiously. "It's all potatoes, too!" "Damn it!" Tommy yelled, and went back to shoveling. "Third should be an auspicious number," said Tuppence comfortingly. "I believe this whole thing is a mirage," Tommy grumbled, but he kept digging. Finally, the third tin can was dug out. "It's dirt again—" Tuppence started, but stopped immediately, "Ah! Tommy, we found it.Potatoes are only in one layer on top.look! " She held a large old-fashioned velvet bag in her hand. "Go back quickly," urged Tommy, "it's too cold. You take the sack home first, and I'll have to shovel the dirt back. Remember, Tuppence, if you go back before I go If you open the cloth bag alone, you will suffer the most vicious curse thousands of times!" "Don't worry, I will be aboveboard. Alas! My hands and feet are numb from the cold." She ran away as if flying. Back at the inn, she didn't wait long before Tommy rushed back.He finished shoveling the soil in a hurry, and then came running in a hurry, his head was still steaming. "Hey!" said Tommy, "the private eye has done wonders! Mrs. Beresford, please open our booty!" In the cloth bag was a small bag wrapped in oil-soaked silk and a heavy antelope bag.First they opened the antelope bag, which was filled with one pound gold coins.Tommy counted. "Two hundred of them. I think they're all from that bank. Cut that packet with your knife!" Tuppence did so at once.Inside was a tightly wrapped roll of banknotes.Tommy and Tuppence counted carefully, and there was a total of 20,000 pounds, no more, no less. Lucky, huh? Hey, what's that wrapped in tissue paper?" Tuppence unfolded the little paper packet and drew out a string of beautifully proportioned pearls. "I'm not very good at that kind of stuff," said Tommy slowly, "but I'm sure these pearls must be worth at least five thousand pounds. You'll know by the size of them. Now I see, Why did the old lady save that newspaper clipping about buying pearls as the best investment. She must have sold all her bonds and cashed them in, or bought jewelry." "Oh, Tommy, that's wonderful: now that lovely Monica can marry the young man she loves, and live happily ever after, just as I do." "Tuppence, it is very flattering to say that. You are very happy with me, then!" "To tell you the truth, I am very happy," said Tuppence, "though I meant not to say it, but I slipped it. It must have been too much excitement, and today is the On Christmas Eve, it's a lot of fun." "If you really love me," Tommy interrupted, "can you answer me a question?" "I don't like to be outrageous," said Tuppence, "but—well—you ask." "How did you know Monica was the pastor's daughter?" "Oh, that's just a trick," said Tuppence cheerfully. "I've read her letter asking to see us. There's a Mr. Dean who was my father's vicar, and he also has a young daughter named Monica. She is about four or five years younger than me. Therefore, I boldly reasoned from this fact." "Oh, I see, you've got a bright head," said Tommy. "Listen here, the clock is striking twelve. Merry Christmas, Tuppence!" "Merry Christmas, Tommy. It was a merry Christmas for Monica too--it was all up to us, of course. I couldn't have been happier. Oh, poor girl, what happened to her was so miserable." .You know what, Tommy? Just thinking about it gives me a sore heart and a lump in my throat." "Oh, Tuppence, my dear," said Tommy tenderly. "Tommy, my dear," said Tuppence, "you see we're getting more and more sentimental!" "Christmas is only once a year," said Tommy affectionately. "Our grandpas and grandmas said so. I hope that every Christmas there will be a lot of truth."